


First Impressions

by intangible_girl



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Gwyneth Paltrow has amazing legs, Humor, Romance, like damn girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intangible_girl/pseuds/intangible_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“But you let your friends call you Virginia,” he protested.</p><p>“No, I don’t,” she said, taking a calming breath. “They call me Pepper.”</p><p>“Pepper,” he repeated, and he could see why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

“Who the hell are you?”

The woman stopped, clearly startled, and nearly fell over in her four-inches heels and my god were those her real legs? Could you have legs enhanced? How would that even work?

“I’m… I’m your new personal assistant, Mr. Stark. Virginia… Potts?”

“What are you asking me for?” Well, she was pretty, he’d give her that, but she looked frightened of her own shadow. No way she’d last more than a week.

“I… What?”

“Miss Potts, how much do you know about oxy-acetylene welding?”

“I… Well, I took a metal shop class back in high school—”

“Excellent, come over here and hand me those filler rods, this part is tricky.”

“Um… I… okay, I’ll just…” She picked her way across the floor of his workshop, balancing precariously on her silly high heels, and Tony felt (just a little bit) mean.

But only a very, very little.

“Here you go, Mr. Stark,” she said, and at least she’d handed him the correct thing, that got some points. This next part, though, would definitely have her running.

It was too bad, really. Those legs were even better up close.

“Okay, let me just—” He was tired, see. Tired of people coming in and out of his life, tired of people looking at him like a piece of meat, tired of the endless parade of pretty assistants who either tried to sleep with him, steal his money, or, in the case of last month’s assistant, do both. Just to use her as an example. Not that she had been anything special or anything. Because she hadn’t been. Not at all.

Tony didn’t even bother looking at the pressure gauges as he turned the knobs.

The thing about acetylene is that it’s very explosive. Tony had been welding things together since he was eight years old, and he hadn’t even been allowed in the shop until he’d been given the full safety course, which of course he barely remembered now except that it had mostly involved going through all the ways he could blow himself up. Being, well, himself, he’d proceeded to try nearly all of them, until his father had been forced to come down to the workshop personally. That hadn’t ended well.

The thing about welding with acetylene is that low pressure is a lot worse than high pressure, and Tony knew for a fact that he hadn’t turned that knob nearly high enough.

This fact was confirmed when the flame on his torch cut out with a loud popping sound.

What happened next remained a blur in his memory, but he was reasonably certain, based on corroborative testimony from Pepper later, that she had grabbed him and pulled him behind the large piece of machinery he’d been working on, where they were relatively protected from the blast.

He came to himself when the sprinklers went off, accompanied by his new assistant shouting in his ear.

“…could have gotten us both killed! They didn’t tell me you were suicidal! Is this what they meant when they said I wouldn’t last a day? I went to graduate school! Don’t you ever! Do that! To me! Again!”

She was hitting him with the sodden remains of some file folder or other and scolding him worse than he’d ever been scolded in his life. Tony was reasonably certain that he did not have a punishment fetish, but he had never wanted to have sex with a woman more in his entire life up to that point. The white dress blouse she was wearing didn’t help matters.

“Miss Potts—can I call you Virginia—?”

“No!” she shrieked angrily. She didn’t look scared. She looked livid. Her face was bright red and where it wasn’t red it was pale white except where her freckles stood out against her skin—god, she had great skin—and she was still yelling. “No, you may not, you will call me Miss Potts and I will call you Mr. Stark and you will never, ever, _ever_ blow up anything around me ever again! Do I make myself clear?”

“But you let your friends call you Virginia,” he protested, and he wondered if he was a little rattled in the head.

“No, I don’t,” she said, taking a calming breath. “They call me Pepper.”

“Pepper,” he repeated, and he could see why.

**Author's Note:**

> I know as much about oxy-acetylene welding as Pepper does, so please forgive any inaccuracies.


End file.
